Dragon Bait
by Bullied
Summary: Short, PWP, Slash.  DMHP. Harry discoveries that being a virgin sacrifice for a fire breathing dragon isn’t...quite what he expected.
1. Chapter 1

"Dragon Bait" By: Bullied

Pairing: DM/HP

Rating: M

Summary: One Shot, PWP, Slash. DM/HP. Harry discoveries that being a virgin sacrifice for a fire breathing dragon isn't _quite_ what he expected.

Warning: Starts out as a light and humorous fairy tale which quickly loses all pretense of literary merit and drops into straight out porn (though the porn is anything but 'straight'). If this is your thing: read on!

_Standard Archive Disclaimer_: Please note that the following item of (non) fiction contains characters, ideas, plots and themes that are not the property (unless otherwise stated) of the listed author and have been used without official permission. I.E. J.K.Rowlings is 'it'.

* * *

In a mythical land inhabited by mythical creatures a long, long time ago there was a village called Hogsmeade. And in this village lived a black haired boy named Harry Potter, who had green eyes just like his mother. 

It was a rather pleasant village for any boy to grow up in. It boasted many important citizens and fine shops, though for a boy like Harry, none were more important than Honeydukes, the bakery. This shop wafted sweet smells liberally about the village, only to be impeded when clashing with the foul aroma slithering forth from Snape's apothecary.

All in all, it was a lively place, which held not only a large and warty church (headed by the large and warty Cornelius Fudge), but also Hogwarts, a monks retreat for 'thinking deep thoughts' just down the road (headed by Albus Dumbledore, a man who was thought to think a little _too_ deeply when smoking certain smoke-able substances).

The only blot on such a perfect village filled with such perfect citizens living in perfectly quaint cottages surrounded by perfect white fences, was the mountain that loomed overhead, for which the village had been named. Now, normally a mountain is only a thing to fear if it's the type that spits molten lava over unsuspecting Pompeien residents. But _this_ mountain had been dormant for so long that it was probably time for it to move onto the next stage and start working on becoming a canyon!

No, the problem with Hogsmeade's mountain was the large, fire breathing dragon that lived there. And, much like the mob, dragons don't just leave a village alone for free. Though, instead of taking bribes of booze, money and cannoli, it's commonly held that dragons tend to be into plump virgins and blushing cows.

…Or something like that, in any case.

This was a cause of general distress for the villagers, who though prosperous were not necessarily imaginative. Thus, salt was liberally thrown over shoulders and many a villager made the safety sign on their forehead (which oddly enough resembled an 'L') upon catching sight of the top of the dragon infested mountain on particularly clear days.

But, the previously mentioned boy in this quaint village, Harry Potter, generally had no time to make the 'safety' sign for his own protection. He usually was much too busy running about filling the laundry list of errands his foster family, the Dursleys, had given him. No need to be upset about the hypothetical situation of being burnt to a crisp by a supposed (and never seen in his lifetime) dragon when Aunt Petunia's rolling pin to his head was very much a reality. Intimate encounters with said pin occurred if the clothing wasn't taken in immediately or the strawberries weren't picked (again, immediately) or Dudley's second breakfast wasn't on time (_immediately_, immediately as Dudley tended to gnaw on anything nearby if he missed a meal.)

The Dursleys called themselves Harry's 'foster family', though they were in fact his blood relatives, as they hadn't wanted anyone in the village to know that they were related to such a pathetic runt of a boy. But, really what could be expected of the son of a couple of wastrels who'd been run over by a rutabaga carriage? (Though that last part may have just been village gossip.)

Today was no different for young Harry, as he'd been sent to the market for potatoes and parsley. Aunt Petunia had needed them right away, which meant he should have had them before he'd actually stepped foot out of the Dursleys' cottage. He _had_ hurried through the errand, if only to take a moment to stop and talk with Hermione, the midwife's daughter. Luckily his best friend Ron had been there as well, unusual for this time of year with all the crops the Weasley homestead needed to bring in.

The trio had been determined to make the most of their time together by catching up with any news. Of course, catching up usually involved Ron complaining about his older brothers and Hermione detailing the fascinating (and yet disgusting) new medicinal or herbal experiment she and her mother had undertaken. Harry usually didn't have as much to share as life was pretty much the same: hiding from Dudley's gang and being locked in the Dursley's root cellar.

Ron was still a bit down about his sister Ginny being chosen for the sacrifice to appease the dragon the year before. Therefore, both Hermione and he tried to cheer the boy up as best as they could. As tradition demanded (and Preacher Cornelius Fudge gleefully followed) the dragon of the mountain must be given a proper sacrifice, namely a virgin girl each year, presumably for eating. And thus went Ginny Weasley.

It had been a source of great contention at the time, for the Weasleys, though not rich, exerted great influence in the village proper, but as tradition demanded, Ginny had been led up the mountain in her best dress, with pretty red flowers in her pretty red hair.

This act had caused pain for the entire Weasley clan, and truthfully Harry as well, who had considered little Ginny to be like a sister to him. It was sad to no longer see her red head bouncing around the village after her gangly brothers, and Harry fervently agreed with the Weasleys that the archaic law _had_ to change.

With a final wave at Hermione and Ron (who was still in mid spit-inducing shout about the injustice), Harry took off in a sprint toward home, worrying that he had stayed out too long. Aunt Petunia would definitely make him miss dinner for this!

Harry knew every short cut in the tiny mountain village of Hogsmeade, though he tended to take the path that _didn't_ pass by Mister Snape's apothecary and rare book shop (the current village rumor was that he liked to boil and eat children). Harry, being sixteen and clearly not a child, hadn't really believed the rumor, especially since Hermione considered it ridiculous. But he _had_ admitted to himself that the man's black as pitch eyes were eerie when they fell on a boy, so he avoided the man as best he could.

Luckily, as the Dursleys considered books to be the devils work he wasn't allowed near the store even if he'd wanted to. Which he most certainly did not!

He'd been only a stones throw from home when he'd noticed a shadow in the alley ahead. As luck would have it, he'd found a Dursley.

Unfortunately it was Dudley Dursley.

"Oi! It's the Freak!"

"…Dudley," Harry replied evenly, though he felt a prickle of unease as Piers and Malcolm began circling. Also uncomfortable was the foul smell that had suddenly arrived along with Dudley and his friends. It was like being smothered in a blanket that had been washed in rotten eggs and stale breath.

This was due to the fact that Dudley and his gang followed the teachings of Preacher Cornelius. He was a man who stuck to the tradition, which included the precept that bathing was an abomination. Compared to the rather fine clothing Dudley and his friends wore, Harry always felt like a dirty peasant. Well, except Harry actually kept himself and his clothing clean, even though the fabric was thin enough to be almost see-through in the wrong light (which is why he avoided direct sunlight around certain people.)

"Just the thing we need now that our ale's gone!" Dudley crowed. Harry then noticed several brown jugs littering the alleyway, clearly stolen from The Hog's Head pub. Harry gulped. Dudley sober was bad enough!

"Dudley, I have to hurry, Aunt Petunia needs these," Harry argued in vain, holding the basket potatoes and fresh herbs tightly to his chest. Dudley had perfected the art of upending where baskets and Harry were concerned.

Dudley laughed. So did Malcolm and Piers.

"Awe…you're _late_ aren't you Harry-kins? Late, late, late. Mum'll _kill_ you." Dudley and the gang found this to be guffaw inducing funny.

"Look, just let me bring these to Aunt Petunia," Harry ground out.

Dudley leaned closer, his round blue eyes fixed on Harry. "But why are you so late Harry-kins, unless you were dawdling? Oh! I know! You were crying with Weasley about his bint of a sister getting turned into Dragon chow, weren't you?"

"Shut up!"

"Oh, look at him! He's mad! Didn't know runts had tempers!" Crowed Piers.

"Yeah Potter, d'ya get mad thinking about Ginny getting 'boned'?" Dennis chortled, obviously quite pleased with his play on words. Apparently equating sex with brutal killing by a viscous, mindless beast was 'funny'. Harry growled.

"Shoulda popped her cherry when you had the chance," Dudley slurred maliciously.

"I said, shut up!" Harry shouted, wrenching away from the grimy hands on his shoulders, but struggling just caused the two to grab him more firmly, leaving him with no wiggle room.

Dudley's eyes suddenly lit as a stray thought flittered through his sluggish brain. "You know, it's almost time for the next sacrifice. Preacher's been getting the list ready for the virgins. I wonder if _any_ virgin would do?"

Harry stilled for a second as Dudley's friends processed his words, watching comprehension slowly roll over them like dawn on a particularly murky lake.

"Yeah…yeah," Piers replied. "I bet the dragon'd eat _anyone_ and everyone knows there's not a bigger virgin in the whole village than Potty here."

"He kinda looks like a girl too with those pretty green eyes," Dennis muttered, squinting at Harry from inches away. Harry desperately tried getting away as Dennis gave him the creeps.

Dudley's round face suddenly filled his vision, evil mirth making him look like a demented baby.

"I think the village will _thank_ us if we give the dragon his treat a little early this year."

And thus Harry's troubles began, for he was soon to learn that Dudley and his gang were the _least_ of his worries.

* * *

A/N 

Thanks to Cimmerian Sorceress for the beta!


	2. Chapter 2

"Dragon Bait" By: Bullied

Pairing: DM/HP

Rating: M

Summary: PWP, Slash. Harry discoveries that being a virgin sacrifice for a fire breathing dragon isn't _quite_ what he expected.

_Standard Archive Disclaimer_: Please note that the following item of (non) fiction contains characters, ideas, plots and themes that are not the property (unless otherwise stated) of the listed author and have been used without official permission.

* * *

Being grabbed by Dudley and his gang wasn't a _new_ experience for Harry per se. He probably had more one-on-one time with the gang than anyone else in the village, aside from gravedigger Filch's cat, that is. However, being dragged _out_ of the village and up half a mountain was definitely new, and _that_ was how Harry found himself in his current predicament. 

Tied to a pole and waiting to become dragon chow.

Harry sighed. It was just so typical.

Moreover, struggling against the ropes was proving to be a fruitless endeavor. The sacrificial pole was another no go. It had been erected by the village ages ago, but was still disappointingly sturdy, and uncomfortable as well as there was a knot of wood digging into his back.

Harry surmised that it might have originally been a nice, cheerful oak color. That definitely couldn't have been the case for the past few decades. It was now pitted, scarred and eerily burnt as if a large dragon-like creature had torched it (and it's captive) many a time in the past.

A breeze stirred around Harry and swept through the cavern that was the dragon's home, shaking the few scraggy brushes hanging to the pitted walls. Small leaves skittered across the ground and into the black hole that dominated the area. It was so dark that it seemed to be sucking the light of the sun into its merciless mouth.

Of course, that this was the Dragon's home was pure speculation, as neither he nor anyone he happened to know had ever seen the beast. Well, Hagrid the forest hermit _swore_ he had, but Hagrid also spent most of his day drunk and passed out under a horse trough and could not be considered a reliable source.

Harry hoped that Dudley would get tired of his 'let's torture Harry' game soon and he'd be able to get back to his chores. With anther wiggle, he tried to loosen the rope around his chest, but the skill with which he'd been tied by Piers was disturbing, to say the least.

They'd tried to rouge his cheeks after that, but Harry had managed to bite the approaching hand. It was more than disconcerting to know Dennis carried around cosmetics with him! The drunken gang had apparently decided that _Harry looking like a girl_ plus _making kissing noises_ plus _cracks about Harry's virgin status_ equaled _carnivorous dragon out at warp speed. _

When _that_ hadn't worked, they'd tried to get the dragon's attention in typical bully fashion, by shouting obscenities, throwing rocks into the cave and insulting the creature's sexuality. Following their typical pattern, they'd soon tired and moved on to something else. (After all, Dudley hadn't eaten for a good hour.)

Harry sighed again as the arguing behind him continued. Dudley and his friends remained divided about the best way to cook the potatoes they'd stolen from Harry.

Dudley's voice rose and it was settled that they'd be sticking them straight into the open fire. A few yelps followed. Apparently, they had tried to do so with their bare hands. The only plus side was that they'd left the parsley in the basket so far, but really, he was going to be in _so_ much trouble with his Aunt for the potatoes.

Harry twitched as the smell of burning potatoes drifted over him, and continued the small movements he was making with his hands, trying to loosen the rope. Granted, this was stopped as soon as he noticed that something very wrong had begun in the direction of the cave.

It started small, and Harry only noticed it because he was stuck in the same little plot of dusty earth. He'd been glaring at his feet when he noticed that the dust had moved. It was subtle, but the particles on the surface layer shifted and slid slightly as if the surface underneath had suddenly become wet and slippery. Or had…_moved._

Each skid of dust was accompanied by a thump, which Harry at first attributed to his imagination. Well, he _would_ have, but the sound was getting disturbingly louder and definitely was coming from the dark cave in front of him.

_Thump._

The sandy dirt around him shifted and slid wildly and a small dust cloud formed around his feet.

_Thump._

He felt the jolt of it travel from his feet into his knees.

_Thump._

He turned to call to Dudley, but the only sound out of his mouth was a dry croak.

_Thump. _

…_Slide._

What _was _that? There was a thump and then a sliding, almost…slithering sound. Harry squinted into the gloom. Was something _moving_ in there?

Yes.

The dragon?

Holy Toledo! It was the dragon!

At first, Harry thought it was white, but the head that emerged was not merely white, but a white overlaid by scales in silver and blue which reflected the sun. And it was huge. The cavernous dragon mouth alone looked to be large enough to eat Dudley, his gang and several Harry's quite easily.

The dragon emerged further from the dark cave and Harry closed his mouth with a snap, rendered speechless. The head was not ghastly and demonic as he had expected, but almost _regal_, with a slender snout and delicate features.

For one moment, at his first glimpse of the beast's tilted gray eyes, sparkling like stars in the middle of the day, Harry had the crazy thought that if he was going to die; at least it was at the claws of something truly _beautiful_.

But then the dragon opened its mouth, revealing rows of wickedly curving teeth, and Harry thought being eaten was perhaps _not _something he should be looking forward to. As quietly as he could, he began struggling against the ties at his wrists, panicking so much that he barely felt the chaffing pain at his wrists.

The dragon surveyed the cavern, taking Harry, the pole and Dudley's gang crouched over their makeshift fire in one long glance, before it titled its head to one side and paused.

"Oi Dudley, you can't eat ALL the potatoes, leave some for the rest of us!"

At the quarreling voice, the dragon began to practically _slink_ out the cave, using all four legs to crawl forward in an almost catlike fashion. Well, if a cat had scales that formed ridges along its spine and tail. It was amazing how something so large could be so quiet!

"Hey! They're mine anyway… here… you can have the parsley."

Harry took a moment from his wide-eyed panic attack to mourn the loss of the parsley, which would seal his doom at Petunia's hand. Of course, the dragon, now crouched in front of him in all of its scaly glory, would probably take care of him before _that_ ever occurred!

Harry watched the white body in front of him with wide eyes, its large figure almost as tall as the cavern walls. The thing was as grand as the Hogsmeade church!

"Parsley? Ew… that's like a vegetable right? You know what the preacher says about vegetables…"

"No, this is like the stuff crazy old Dumbledore uses! You can smoke it!"

To Harry's surprise, the slowly moving mass moved _past_ his pole without the mouth swooping down to chew him up. Instead, muscled forearms pushed by him, just inches away, though it seemed even larger now that it was so close!

Harry gasped pitifully, trying to work out _breathing_ with the heart attack he felt like he was having as the big toe (clawed!) of the beast actually brushed against the edge of his work trousers. The beast was so close he could _hear _the dragon breathing, like a gentle rumble in the great creature's body.

"Good idea! Got any paper?"

At this the dragon snorted, which must have alerted Dudley's gang to the fact that a large dragon was looming over them.

Scrambling was heard and then. "Holy crap! What the hell is that thing?"

"The dragon! The dragon! Oh shit! Oh shit!"

The large body next to Harry's pole stopped the gentle humming and a gargantuan breath was drawn in. Harry had a _very_ clear shot of the beast's massive body inflating with air. There was more scrambling behind Harry, and from the yelps it sounded like at least one of the boys had fallen in the fire.

Retreating footsteps sounded as the gang took off down the path. The dragon followed them down with a fireball.

Heat surrounded Harry for just a moment, as if he were standing in front of a large bonfire. Reflections of the fireball the dragon had let loose shimmered on the jeweled body towering over him.

The scrambled footsteps died down as the boys got farther away, and it suddenly became very quiet, not even the birds or insects made a peep. In fact, the little wind that _had_ been skittering around the cavern tossing around leaves had apparently decided to go into hiding too, leaving Harry trying to be very quiet in death fully still air.

But, then it sunk in that they'd… left him. Tied to a pole to be _eaten._

THAT THEY HAD TIED HIM TO!

He couldn't _believe_ them!

How could they _do_ this to him? Didn't they have _any_ human feeling? He felt moisture on his cheeks, and wasn't sure if it was from fear or pure rage.

The quiet was broken as the dragon moved, his large body twisting almost sinuously around until a large eye regarded Harry levelly. Harry held perfectly still, wondering if he held still, it wouldn't be able to see him (much like Dudley while eating).

The jewel-like eye continued to survey him. Giving it up as a lost cause and suffering from the need to breath, Harry let out a shaky, whimpering gasp. The dragon titled its head slightly at the sound.

The slender snout which Harry _knew_ housed some amazingly sharp teeth came closer and that gentle purring sound was heard again. Harry closed his eyes, feeling a cold sweat break over his body. But instead of the expected _'Fwoosh'_ and instant _death-by-fire-ball_, Harry felt a warm breeze wafting over him. It was oddly comforting, like the feeling of a summer breeze at night, keeping bugs at bay when the Dursleys made him sleep outside for the crime of coexistence.

Harry cracked one eye and saw that the dragon was… breathing on him. What the? No… no, he realized, the beast was _sniffing_ him, and apparently the beast had a _huge_ lung capacity. Harry only hoped his clothing would stay attached. Is that how it found its prey?

Oh, if only he'd been brave enough to enter the apothecary, maybe he'd _know_ about the hunting habits of dragons, for it was said Snape also sold obscure books on rare creatures and strange plants (and for some reason an assortment of sturdy paddles). But, no, he'd been too afraid of those black eyes that watched everything, especially when he clumsily dropped things.

The dragon drew back slightly and Harry concentrated on _not_ dying by hyperventilation as another warm breeze blew around him, dust getting into his eyes and making them water. He coughed, blinking at the tears and trying to see where the beast had gone, but when he was finally able to open his eyes he gave a start.

The dragon was gone.

But he was _not_ alone. A man stood before him, tall, rich, young and surveying him with the most calculating eyes he had ever seen.

The young man tipped his head to one side, the blonde fringe of his hair falling over one eye.

Harry took a shaky breath, "Who? What?" His voice sounded reed thin and breathy, and barely discernable.

"I am Malfoy," the boy said in a cultured voice, "Draco Malfoy. And I am _not_ a 'What'."

And with that the young man sauntered towards him much like a cat approaching a mouse, slowly, sinuously and with all focus in the world on his prey.

* * *

A/N 

Thanks to Cimmerian Sorceress for the wonderful beta!


	3. Chapter 3

"Dragon Bait" By: Bullied

Pairing: DM/HP

Rating: M

Summary: PWP, Slash. Harry discoveries that being a virgin sacrifice for a fire breathing dragon isn't _quite_ what he expected.

_Standard Archive Disclaimer_: Please note that the following item of (non) fiction contains characters, ideas, plots and themes that are not the property (unless otherwise stated) of the listed author and have been used without official permission.

* * *

This boy… this Draco Malfoy… everything about him drew the eye. First his hair, which was just long enough to fall over his eyes, was so white it shone almost unnaturally in the weak afternoon sunlight. Then his features, a thin, patrician nose, firm lips and piercing eyes screamed the careful breeding of the upper class.

The man's outfit was also quite unusual, though it reminded Harry a bit of the glimpse he'd seen of the nobles from the House of Black when they'd passed by Hogsmeade. They'd had gilt carriages and guards at arms out in full force as they were searching for their son's runaway tutor, a Mr. Lupin.

Apparently there had been a misunderstanding of some sort between the son, a Lord Sirius, and the tutor. Sirius of Black swore a spider had crawled up Mr. Lupin's shirt and the boy had just been trying to help him by tackling him to take it off. And it makes good safety sense to have then taken off the man's pants as well! One never knows where the spider could have gotten to, after all! Truthfully, Harry didn't see why the noble had to take such a personal interest in the job as most servants took their own pants off, but then nobles _were_ a funny breed!

Now _this_ noble… he was clad in what _might_ have been a typical gentleman's suit, for the fabric was obviously rich, and the cut was elegant. It draped over his body fluidly and had the flared tails that were popular at the time, but Harry was sure no noble man forgot _both_ waistcoat and shirt and went about bare-chested (well, maybe that Lord Sirius would have, he'd been such a strange man!). Of course, maybe if other nobles had such nicely defined abs rippling under smooth white skin, they'd 'forget' their shirts as well!

Harry managed to drag his eyes away from the noble approaching him to take a quick look for the dragon. It was probably creeping behind him to gobble him up! But, after a quick survey, he saw no creature. The cavern was empty except for the scraggily looking brush hanging desperately to the walls and the strange, indecently clad noble by the name of Draco Malfoy.

The noble gave Harry what could only be called a smirk as he walked toward him, though 'walk' was perhaps not the correct description as this man seemed to _slink_, hips rolling sensually as if he were desire made flesh.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, _anything_, but as he was still having a bit of a panic attack, the only thing that came out was a croak. The man was just so _expensive_ looking, and Harry was every bit a peasant. Peasants generally got slapped or worse for daring to raise their eyes to someone of such stature. He quickly focused his eyes on the ground, watching as the noble's expensive boots came into view, the black clad feet stopping just before Harry. Harry felt a soft breeze on his cheek as the noble exhaled.

Daring a quick glance up, Harry saw that the blond boy was surveying Harry and the pole he was currently tied to with lazily lidded eyes.

Harry attempted to clear his throat, to give some sort of greeting (or apology for being caught staring), even though really, he didn't see how anyone could punish him as he was tied to a pole and the man really _was_ a striking person. Plus, there was that dragon sneaking around somewhere, probably lurking over the ridge and watching him with a beady eye, ready to pounce! That was enough to rattle _any_ boy!

The noble… Draco… reached out and casually ran a hand along the ropes around Harry's chest. _Perhaps_, Harry thought excitedly, _the man was checking the ropes to untie him? _Except the man didn't, for after running his hand along the rope crisscrossing Harry's body, the man leaned in further and _sniffed_ Harry's chest while his other hand traveled up to slip around Harry's neck, rubbing one ear before fanning his hand across the side of Harry's face. The man's fingers were soon twined in Harry's dark hair and there was a brush of a thumb against the soft plumpness of Harry's lower lip.

Now that the noble was so close, Harry saw that his eyes were gray, but not just any gray, for there was a delicate white ring around the iris reminding Harry of the ring around the sun on a hazy day.

'_Beautiful,'_ Harry thought, but then admonished himself. Why was he thinking another man beautiful and like the _sun_?

"Wh-what do you want?" Harry asked.

Draco smirked_. Again. _And, instead of answering what was clearly a perfectly acceptable question, reached over and plucked Harry's glasses off of his face. The world suddenly became a blurry and confusing place, and Harry could _just_ make out the glowing blob that was the blond, apparently holding his glasses up the sun to study them more closely.

"H-hey! I need those to see!"

The figure in front of him paused. And even though he couldn't see very well, he was pretty sure Draco was smirking again. That seemed to be his favorite expression, at least around Harry.

The glasses were slid back onto Harry's face and warm fingers rested on each side of Harry's cheeks as the man continued staring at him, but this time from only inches away. The strange gray eyes filled his vision, and he felt a digit explore the rim of his right ear teasingly. A warm blush flooded Harry's cheeks at the odd gesture.

"Ummm…" Harry began as the man continued playing with his ear and hair, the fingers warm against this skin. Harry felt a bit like he was in the middle of a game of hide and go seek, flushed, panting and with his heart pounding a mile a minute from all the excitement because _what if they found him!_, except he _wasn't_ playing hide and go seek!

"Could you untie me? Umm… Mr… er… M'Lord?"

In response the man drew his face closer, those mysterious eyes now creased to slits. Hot breath was on Harry's face and a warm, wet sensation bloomed on Harry's left cheek. It took Harry a moment to figure out what the wetness was, as it wasn't raining, and he wasn't taking a bath. No… the man, this Draco, had _licked_ Harry _on the cheek_! There was another wet swipe across the tip of his nose, and then a third across Harry's lips, where he hovered, letting their breaths mingle.

"Wait!" Harry said, trying to draw his head back and away from that dangerous mouth that seemed to really like licking a person, unfortunately he soon was stopped as he thumped firmly against the pole. "You don't just go around licking people! And I really need to be untied!"

The man titled his head while watching Harry, his eyes lidded again and a small smile playing on his lips. He seemed to find Harry's rant to be…amusing. He came in for another lick, but Harry managed to turn his head, which resulted in hot breath and a wet tongue being dragged across his cheek. He tried again.

"There's a dragon! I'm sure you saw it being that you must have been hiding behind it, though how you did that without being squa… Mrggh!"

Harry had just discovered that it was rather hard to talk with a tongue in his mouth. Well, a tongue other than his _own_.

It was a new experience for him, being the first kiss he'd had, well other than the soft pecks he'd given Hermione and a few of the other girls on their cheeks come festival day. He discovered that kissing with _mouths_, and more importantly, with _tongues_ was a lot more confusing. For one thing, he had no idea what to do with _his_ tongue, being that the other man seemed quite happy to run his own around Harry's mouth from top to bottom. Maybe he thought Harry had candy?

Also disturbing, the man had brought his body flush with Harry's, toe to toe, hip to hip, chest to chest. Though, they didn't _quite_ line up as the man was taller and a bit more muscular. It was the first time Harry had felt such a warm and firm body pressed so intimately against his own, and it was a bit overwhelming, as he were going to be crushed. The contrast between the soft fabric of the man's coat rustling against him and the heat radiating from the man's chest through Harry's shirt was quite a dizzying combination.

Harry finally brought his own tongue to tentatively touch the other, of course, with the plan to push the thing from his mouth, unfortunately this turned out to be a _bad idea__tm_

Suddenly the situation changed from confusing to _hot_ _and confusing_ with it being hard to breathe as the hot mouth dominated his, tongues rubbing together and… feeling…

…_Nice_.

The hand on his ear tipped his head back and twined in his hair and the mouth paused for a moment as a ripping sound came. Harry felt the ropes on his chest loosen and he sagged slightly into the remaining ties. He was one step closer to getting free! Now just for the ropes binding his arms!

He felt what was close to another smirk against his mouth, before the man titled Harry's head to allow easier access and stuck his tongue straight into Harry's mouth again.

If it hadn't feel rather nice to have a warm body pressed against him and a warm mouth over his with such a skillful tongue invading his warm places, he really would have protested. It wasn't like he was just an object with random holes a person could just go sticking body partsinto after all!

There was an odd tugging sensation around Harry's midsection and then his chest suddenly felt much cooler. Disturbingly so. He managed to look down as the noble had gone to sucking on his ear.

The bastard had ripped his shirt open leaving Harry practically naked from the waist up!

His _only_ shirt!

First the rope now the shirt! And he hadn't seen any knives on the man – how was he doing it?

Said bastard had apparently decided Harry's neck was just as delightful as his ear, for the blond head was now studiously applying himself to leaving small red marks down the slender column of Harry's neck, soothed by wet tongues trails.

"Wait… er… you really need to sto-ah!" Harry sputtered as the blond found a sensitive spot at the tip of a pulse point. The man focused on it with teeth and lips and tongue with such single minded dedication that Harry felt a bit as if he were a banquet for a starving man.

A sure hand caressed down his chest, tweaking a nipple on the way before trailing over the front of Harry's trousers. He felt a moment of unease at the hand, as that was not an appropriate place for a person to go touching a bloke, _at all_, but then nobles were a different breed. His unease was proven true as the hand that had been ghosting peacefully suddenly leapt to action, grabbing a handful of Harry's bits. His _private_ bits.

Harry shrieked in a manner reminiscent of a five year old Dennis Creevey when he'd been thrown in the lake after being told it contained carnivorous mermaid leprechauns. He'd kept the whole village up for _hours_ with his high pitched, girly screams.

The blond smiled at Harry, seemingly pleased by his reaction, but thankfully moved his hand away, though Harry swore he could still feel the warm imprint of the fingers.

His relief was short lived as the man quirked an eyebrow, now studying Harry's trousers, which were of the drawstring variety. His expression seemed intrigued, as if he had never _seen_ draw string trousers before. Though, by the way he had shredded Harry's poor shirt, leaving his chest all exposed and slightly shivery in the outdoor air, perhaps he just wasn't used to normal common attire? Maybe that's why there was all the ripping and tearing?

As if to prove Harry's guess correct, Draco trailed a pale finger along the edge of the grey string, before tugging gently on one looped end, pulling it inexorably loose. As the string came undone, Harry felt his trousers sag slightly and slip to rest below his hip bones, the white of his under shorts now peeking up at the top.

"How delightful," the noble murmured, sounding very pleased. It was the same cultured voice as when he'd given his name, though now it had a hint of huskiness.

Harry goggled, "You _can_ talk! Well, of course, you can, you did before, but then you got all… well, listen, you're obviously new to the area, but this is not the way we greet people in Hogsmeade!"

The blond ignored his rant entirely. "I shall have to send a gift basket to apologize for trying to kill the idiots. How nice that they left my present nicely wrapped and yet arranged that it would be so easily opened!"

And with that, the blond plunged his hand straight into Harry's pants, grabbing his bits firmly. Unfortunately for Harry, this time around he had only his thin cotton under shorts to protect his bits _and_ his modesty.

"Stop!" Harry ordered, though he sounded a bit breathless and squeaky to be truly commanding, though he managed to pick up some momentum and sound a bit firmer toward the end. "You don't just go around grabbing a guy's bits so stop it you – you b-bastard!"

He didn't care that he was facing a beating or worse by insulting a noble; this Draco Malfoy had gone too far!

The blond curved one hand around Harry's head as he leaned into him, eyes again inches from Harry's. Unfortunately, he left his _other_ hand firmly where it was, though now he was also doing a bit of _squeezing_ with said hand, and the combination of the strong, warm hand _squeezing_ was causing some very disastrous swelling of previously mentioned bits.

"And why should I do that?" The blond asked dryly, sounding as if Harry's protest had been quite idiotic, and as if to prove a point the hand on Harry squeezed again. "Not when I'm getting such _delightful_ results, as it were."

It was all very much too uncomfortable and new and confusing for Harry and he had trouble figuring out which way was up and how to handle this strange blond man.

"B-but, you don't just grab a guy _there_," Harry sputtered while blushing again. "You don't even know me!"

"Oh, well, if it will get you to stop yapping on and ruining the mood, very well, we shall 'get to know one another'. As you know, and I'm assuming it hasn't dripped from that pretty little peasant head of yours, _my_ name is Draco Malfoy. And what may I call you?"

"Harry Potter." Harry responded automatically, years of keeping up the Dursleys appearances snapping into place. Then he worked through the sentence and found at least three insults directed at him personally and frowned at the noble.

The blond beamed (though even that looked a bit like a smirk to Harry). "Well met Harry. And, now that we're acquainted," he said before he did something even worse than squeezing. He began rubbing. Fingers and palm lightly cupping at Harry through the thin fabric of his under shorts as his began sliding up and down in a steady motion.

Harry moaned.

And _then_ he remembered that he wasn't at home in the middle of one of those dreams that woke him up all sweaty and sticky, but tied to a pole being felt up by a strange noble man. Who seemed to like staring at him with lidded eyes while he did said feeling up.

"No! You b-bast...Draco!"

The blond tugged on one of Harry's black curls with the hand not busy reducing Harry to incoherent babbling. "Tsk. Though Draco _is_ my name, I do not believe I gave _you_ permission to call me that."

The hand rubbed again, casing the fabric to bunch with each pass, creating interesting friction. Harry's eyelids began to flutter spasmodically. He vaguely say the outline of that smil-no _smirking_ face just inches away, watching his own flushed face as if he were the most interesting thing the other had seen.

"No?" Harry moaned, not quite sure where the conversation was going, as the fabric of his under shorts had bunched up to the point that he felt flashes of hand on tender skin. Oh, and who had known that _that_ would feel so good?

"No. I believe _YOU _can call me 'Master'."

Dexterous fingers had crept under his shorts entirely now and it felt like a band of tight heat was encircling Harry's cock with each up and down movement. This was, he discovered, a wonderful feeling indeed.

Harry moaned again into the face inches from his.

Wait…

A…

Second….

"Master!? Did you just say I'm supposed to call you 'Master'." He sputtered in indignation, green eyes flashing and face flushed with anger. He huffed and then tried wiggling away from _the hand!_, which didn't work out very well as _the hand!_ followed him the few inches he was able to make before _the rope!_ stopped him.

"Cute!" Draco beamed into Harry's enraged face. "But no time for that now, sweet, we're just getting _started._"

* * *

A/N

Thanks to Cimmerian Sorceress for the wonderful beta!


	4. Chapter 4

"Dragon Bait" By: Bullied

Pairing: DM/HP

Rating: M

Summary: PWP, Slash. Harry discoveries that being a virgin sacrifice for a fire breathing dragon isn't _quite_ what he expected.

_Standard Archive Disclaimer_: Please note that the following item of (non) fiction contains characters, ideas, plots and themes that are not the property (unless otherwise stated) of the listed author and have been used without official permission.

_Warning:_ **The porn starts here!** **Beware!**

* * *

_But no time for that now, sweet, we're just getting started?_

Harry ran the words through his head. What on earth did Draco mean by _that?_ Getting started on what? He was only thirty percent sure it was about getting him down from the pole and sixty nine percent sure it involved more of this strange form of torture by means of grabby hands and dexterous tongues.

(One percent was still worried about the dragon).

At Harry's confused expression, Draco winked before hoisting him up to rest on a knot of wood in the pole. It was nice to no longer have the darn thing digging into his back, but not so nice now that Draco had pressed forward, pushing Harry's legs apart to rest between them.

"Wha-?" Harry managed, but then the hand on his cock started moving again and he was again reacquainted with the amazing feel of actual _skin on skin _with the fabric of his shorts pushed aside so nicely. And wasn't it swell to have that knot, which was really a small ledge, to sit on? In fact, he discovered he was perfectly stable if he wrapped his legs a bit around the other boy! He did this, hooking his left leg around the boy's expensive pant leg.

Very comfortable indeed!

Draco chuckled into his neck and the hand in Harry's hair slipped down to begin kneading his backside. _That_, combined with the hand on his cock and the sucking from his neck to his ear to his lips was too much for Harry's often ignored libido.

"Oh!" Harry panted, ready to come.

The hand stopped abruptly, leaving Harry breathless, confused, and with a certain body part throbbing unhappily.

"Now, now, not yet. We'll do _that_ together. Let's move on to something else then, shall we?" the blonde boy asked, sounding a bit breathless himself.

There was a tug and Harry's pants were down about his knees, soon followed by his under shorts. Harry's member sprang free, apparently shameless about wanting more if the bobbing was anything to go by. And Draco could _see_ it! This was embarrassing. Not that he was deformed down there, just that it was one thing to have someone groping about in your pants, another to be waving it in someone's face!

The blond gave another pull on Harry's pants, growling as the material didn't move as easily as he apparently wanted. Harry watched in fascination as the fingernails on his pale, aristocratic fingers suddenly extended, forming sharp, pointed claws. He raked through the fabric in one swift motion and Harry's pants practically melted away.

The claws then retraced until Draco's hand appeared to be a normal, human hand, which he used to give Harry's behind a good squeeze.

Harry froze. The other boy, who now _looked_ normal and human (but was clearly _not_ _human!) _happily pushed forward again, this time resting between very bare thighs. The front of his tented trousers came into contact with Harry's cock and Harry realized that it was… exciting… to feel another cock rubbing against his own, even through the other boy's trousers. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"That was… how did you… you're not human, are you?" he managed to get out.

"Of course not, pet! I can't believe you thought that. It should be obvious," Draco replied with a smile. For a second, his gleaming white teeth became pointed and sharp, but Harry blinked and the image faded until it was just a normal human smile on a handsome man's face.

"I am of the noble clan of Malfoy. Any plebeian knows we're a respected dragon family."

"D-d-d-dragon?"

"But, of course. Again, I'm really surprised you're just getting this now, I changed in front of you purposely, to show you the beauty of both of my forms," the other boy responded while digging in the inside pocket of his now open jacket. He made a sound of triumph and pulled out a glass bottle with a clear liquid inside.

"But… dragon!" Harry repeated dumbly, trying to convince Draco that this was very strange (boys rubbing their cocks together not withstanding).

"Yes, we've already established that. Could you move your leg up a bit?"

Harry obliged by moving his right leg above Draco shoulder and the other boy moved closer, placing a quick kiss on Harry's lips. With Draco's jacket now open, he could see a faint line of curly white hair which led down into his pants. Harry blushed. He'd heard some of the women call that the 'trail to treasure'.

Harry didn't have quite so much a 'trail' as a tanned stomach devoid of hair, and now that Draco had basically taken off all of his clothing (though there were still pieces valiantly clinging to his arms and legs), the other boy had a clear view of the small ring of tight black curls around Harry's jutting cock. What must the other boy think to see him still so aroused?

Wait! Not a boy, a dragon!

"But if you're a dragon, aren't you going to eat me?" Harry asked dumbly, tearing his eyes away from the sculpted abs the gaping jacket was revealing as well.

Draco chuckled, low and husky in his throat as he leaned closer to Harry, their eyes locked. "Oh yes, I plan on eating you right up," he replied before giving Harry's bottom lip a nip with teeth that _felt_ flat and not razor sharp.

"But if you're going to eat me, why aren't you a dragon right now? You're not really going to, right, you're going to let me go?" Harry asked in a rising voice. He would have clutched at Draco desperately, but was stopped again by the whole 'tied up' bit.

"No, I'm not letting you go in the middle. Perish the thought," the other boy dismissed the idea immediately, his tone sharp and clipped. Harry took that as the possibility of being eaten still being an option and bit his lower lip worriedly.

Seeing this, the other boy ran a pale finger along Harry's lower lip and assured him in a much nicer tone, "It's alright, Harry." The other boy then gave another of those licks against his lips, though this time he pressed their lips together gently. It was very soft and very sweet and when Draco pulled back he had a glow in his eyes.

"But I don't understand," Harry whispered, feeling confused and above all, exposed. But nothing the other boy had done had _hurt_. In fact, Harry had rather liked it all so far. But he was just so infuriating! Saying strange things and not listening to what Harry was saying! This Draco Malfoy seemed like the type who was _used_ to getting his own way. Harry felt a bit of his normal courage return as the confusion faded from the forefront of his thoughts.

"Think about it, Harry. It should be obvious why a dragon would change into a human," Draco replied with one pale brow raised as he tipped the glass bottle in his hand, coating his fingers in a gel-like liquid.

"Well, it's not," Harry argued, rallying with a hot glare in Draco's general direction (which was quite easy as the other boy was easy to find, being that he insisted on gluing himself all over Harry).

"Oh, but pretty one, it is _very_ obvious. We change form to mate with comely virgins like you."

And then he stuck one lubed finger straight up Harry's ass.

"Uh…"

Harry breathed out through his nose in shock.

It was full and strange and a bit wrong, but it didn't _hurt_, even when Draco moved his finger in a bit further. After his scrambling brain had processed the events, he tried to scoot back, but with his arms tied behind him and his legs pushed up he couldn't do more than wiggle, which caused the invading digit to feel even stranger. It was almost… ticklish.

Especially when Draco began moving his finger in a circle, brushing and teasing inside him with slow movements.

"Harry…" the blond boy whispered huskily.

And then finger inside Harry brushed against something that felt like a shot of _good _coursing through his body

"Holy Feast Day!" Harry shouted.

"Ah, found it then!" Draco crooned against his cheek, before his finger brushed the _good_ again, sending Harry writhing against his restraints and babbling incoherently. Then there were _more_ fingers, and a shaky Harry collapsed forward onto the soft jacket in front of him, feeling tremors moving through his body.

How much could a boy take before he died? (Or was allowed to come?)

The fingers withdrew slowly, still making small, circular movements, and Harry wanted to protest, because he was so turned on that_ it hurt._ His cock was beginning to leak in frustration and the finger leaving was making this even worse!

But then Draco cradled his back with one hand and threaded his hand through Harry's hair again to kiss him again, and the familiar tongue was a welcome distraction. Harry kissed him back while feeling the body against him rock slightly, resulting in something poking against his backside.

"Wha—?" Harry muttered against Draco's mouth, but Draco did a tricky maneuver with his tongue that left him feeling shivery as the hand left his back to tickle over Harry's cock in a teasing manner. Then there was a rustling of clothing and the poking Harry had felt increased as something much larger than a finger began pressing into his opening.

Draco pulled back from the kiss and murmured, "Harry, I need you to relax." As the kisses had already turned Harry into a puddle of goo, he didn't see how he could relax further!

But the pressure below became much stronger and Draco made a face as if he were in pain. There was an abrupt thrust into him, and Harry tried to back up again because it _hurt!_

_Hurt!_

Too much!

But he _couldn't_ back up!

Draco stilled against him, and the thing in Harry stopped pushing and Harry was able to breathe again. The pressure was still there and it felt as if there were a… rod jammed up inside him, but… as long as Draco held still like this it would be… okay.

Draco exhaled a long breath and rested his lips against Harry's sweaty cheek. "Are you okay, Harry?"

What could Harry say? It was uncomfortable? Because it was. And it hurt? Because it did. But it also felt…

Harry blushed, because part of it felt that with Draco's cock in him… he and Draco were _connected_.

It was… exciting. Because it wasn't Draco's finger anymore, it was _Draco._

"Maybe…?" Harry said, his voice sounding raspy, "…kiss me again?"

And Draco did, and it was like before, tongues and panting breaths and thoughts spiraling away so Harry let the small tingles and small pains that started when Draco moved his hips in small, shallow thrusts pass over him.

"Harry," Draco groaned, pulling back from the kiss, "…can't hold on much longer."

Harry blushed. "Okay," he mumbled, not believing he was _saying_ such a thing, but at that Draco started thrusting in fully, taking him in long strokes that seemed to burn Harry up from the inside. Harry gave a hoarse yell at the pleasure and pain, but Draco swallowed that with his mouth, giving back a moan that Harry swallowed in return.

He grabbed Harry firmly by the backside and lifted him, and Harry could feel the slick play of muscles of Draco's stomach brush against Harry's chest with each thrust, and the harsh breathing passing his ear. Draco's voice rough now and not controlled as he slammed in again pushing past that spot that sent that feeling of sweet tickling, "Harry…you can come…now," and the thrusts became erratic and with one final huff Draco slumped sweaty and spent against Harry as warmth filled Harry's ass.

Shaking fingers found their way to Harry's cock to tug once, twice, three times.

And then Harry screamed, came and passed out all at the same time.

* * *

A/N 

It's been mentioned that this story is similar to 'Dragon's Bait', which I haven't read – though looking at the cover on Amazon it looks interesting! I'd picked the name at random (I was also partial to the name 'crunchy with ketchup' from the quote 'meddle not in the affairs of dragons - for you are **crunchy** and taste good with **ketchup'.**) ;)

The idea for this story actually came from a movie I saw on t.v. – a knight was being sent to kill a dragon and there was also a princess happily wandering around somewhere.

Basically I stopped watching at that point, as I thought it was highly unfair, what had the dragon ever done to the knight? Therefore, in the version in my head, the knight got pwned by the dragon, and they then had kinky sex (thus the dragon had a human form). Everyone wins!

'Harry tied to a pole to be molested by Draco' was clearly the next step for a story like this! ;)

Disclaimer: '_Everyone' - __me_ and the _dragon_

Thanks to Cimmerian Sorceress for the wonderful beta!


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